


Nathan's Hands

by CookieDoughMe



Category: Haven (TV)
Genre: Multi, OT3, Post-Troubles (Haven), Threegulls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 08:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7883623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CookieDoughMe/pseuds/CookieDoughMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Troubles, OT3; Nathan appreciates the feel of his lovers’ hands in his.<br/>There is no real plot here - just a happy moment in time where the Troubles are gone and Nathan, Audrey and Duke are safe and together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nathan's Hands

The cinema was warm and quiet; less than half full on a random Thursday afternoon. Nathan shifted in his seat and leant his head back against the wall behind them, one of the benefits of being in the back row. 

The choice of movie had been based on what was playing at the time and it wasn't grabbing Nathan's attention. It was all action in a way that left all the life or death moments devoid of context and he found himself disinterested in who lived or how they died. 

But it was a nice change to do this; he honestly couldn't remember the last time he had been to the movies. And now here he was with Audrey sat on one side and Duke on the other and a reasonable expectation that Haven would be in one piece by the time the movie ended. It felt pretty luxurious. 

In lieu of being able to stretch his legs, he reached his arms out instead, wrists hanging over the arms of the seat. Duke reached up first, fingers twining through his. Nathan pulled his fingers over Duke's and felt himself quietly sigh at the sensation of Duke’s fingers on his palm as they twisted their hands slowly around each other. He flexed the fingers of his other hand, reaching vaguely for Audrey and just brushing her leg, but then her hand was there too, so different from Duke's and so welcome in his.

He twisted his fingers around theirs, pulling past each other from finger tip to knuckle and down to the soft skin where fingers meet palm. He felt the smooth metal of rings; a clear contrast to the soft warmth of skin. He felt nails along his palm and then a hand turn again to brush soft fingertips across the sensitive skin at inside of his wrist. Why the skin there was so sensitive he did not know and neither did he care. He turned his hands to trace his fingers along palms, knuckles, nails, rings and wrists. He tracked the feel of two separate movements with no problem; feeling every shift and turn and bend and stroke.

For so long, he had felt nothing. He had watched and seen, listened and heard, thought and worried, planned and hoped. And he had done it all one step removed from the world, cut off from the town he was trying to save, Audrey's skin the only (occasional) anchor in an untouchable world.

But no longer. Haven was safe now (as safe as anywhere ever got), the Troubles were gone for good and the town was rebuilding itself. He was connected to the world again; through his skin when he opened a door or picked up a pen. And through this relationship too, with these people he had fought with to pull Haven free from the grip of aether and Croatoan and the Troubles. And they had done it; it was over. He no longer needed to watch or listen quite so closely to the world around him. He no longer needed to think or plan in quite the same way.

And so he shifted in his seat just to feel the chair underneath him, and he didn't really mind that his knees pressed against the chair in front. The feel of these thing anchored him in the here and now, just as the warmth of Audrey’s and Duke's hands in his distracted him with thoughts of all the other ways his lovers made him feel. After years of feeling nothing, and thinking too much, he closed his eyes to the screen, stopped paying attention to the plot, and did nothing but feel. Their fingers between his, their palms against the backs of his hands. Nails and fingertips, knuckles and palms; skin on skin. He felt the big things; their movement, their warmth. And he felt the little things too; the feeling of movement in his own fingers as his hands shifted, the breath in his throat as he sighed and relaxed and little bit more weight left his shoulders.

The hands in his moved in different directions, different rhythms, different paths over his, with pressure changing from a feather-light touch to a squeeze at one point almost painful (though he didn’t mind). He wondered idly if that was related to some life-or-death moment on screen, but he didn't open his eyes to find out. He was too busy paying attention to all of the little differences between the hands in his. Audrey’s were smaller, quicker and softer. Duke’s were strong and weathered from the sea and the kitchen, with bruises and calluses from the Rouge, burns and cuts from the Gull. 

He let the sensations of their touch flow through him, from one hand all along his body to the other. It was a pleasant thing to feel like the link between them, not that they needed one. Their fingers would be just as happy in each other’s hands as in his, he knew. For a moment he almost felt like the sensations whizzing through his body from one hand to the other - like his whole body itself - were nothing more than the connection between the two of them, as though everything he were feeling existed only in the space where Audrey's skin touched Duke's.

It wasn’t an unappealing concept, but it didn’t last long. He was distracted by the thought of Duke’s hands in Audrey’s and that led to thoughts of Duke’s hands on her body, running down her ribs, across her hips, cupping her breasts. When he was there to watch these things happening, he usually got involved himself before too long. But just at the moment, he felt like he wouldn't need to, because it seemed as though he could feel the touch of their skin anyway; the sensation of hands on skin, and skin on hands. 

And so, he thought about Audrey and Duke together and it seemed like he could feel everything from both sides at once; what the muscles of Duke’s chest felt like under Audrey’s hands, and what her nails felt like as her fingers moved across his skin; what the soft weight of her breasts felt like to Duke, and what the pressure of his fingers felt like to her as he ran a thumb over her nipple.

He replayed scenes from last night, and last week, he let his imagination run away with images (and smells and textures and sounds) of his lovers bodies; those calloused hands caressing soft, smooth skin, and neatly trimmed nails running over tattoos. He thought not just of last week and last night, but next week and tomorrow, and all the things they hadn't yet had a chance to try. 

But in the end, imagination wasn’t really the point, and he simply let himself feel in the reality of the moment; the warmth of their hands in his, their solid presence either side of him, their plans for the weekend, his place in their lives and in Haven. 

He finally gave up thinking and simply let himself feel, safe and loved; and he let himself feel safe, and he let himself feel loved. And he relaxed in the luxury of the sensation of another’s skin against his own.

As he felt another little sign leave his chest, the rhythm of both Audrey’s and Duke’s hands slowed at the same time and he realised the lighting had changed. He opened his eyes to find the credits rolling and both of them looking at him, amused little smiles on their faces.

“You quite alright there, Nate?” asked Duke.

Nathan grinned back at him, “Best movie ever.”


End file.
